Not Safe After Dark (44 page)

The only thing we could console ourselves with was that Tommy went to the gallows proud and at peace with himself for having avenged his father’s death.

I hadn’t the heart to tell him that he was wrong about Mad Maggie, that she wasn’t the woman he thought she was.

I was absolutely
speechless. After everything that had happened, there he stood, bold as brass, telling all the world we were going to be married.
Married!
You
would have been speechless, too.

Let me give you a little background. My name is Isabella, and until that moment I had been all set to enter a convent. I fear I have a wayward and impulsive nature that needs to be kept in
check, and the convent I had in mind, the votarists of St Clare, was one of strict restraint. Imagine my feelings when, head swimming from the twists and turns of recent events, I heard I was to be
married to the duke!

But there’s more, much more.

A short while ago the duke realized that he had become lax in his duties, being of too mild and gentle a nature to enforce the laws of the land to their fullest. Of special concern to him,
because it ate away at the very institution of marriage itself, was the law that forbade, on pain of death, a man to live with a woman to whom he was not married.

Fearing that the people would revolt if he were suddenly to change course and start enforcing the law rigorously himself, the duke thought it better to slip away for a while and leave his
deputy, Angelo, in charge. Thus, Angelo was invested with all the duke’s powers and charged with cleaning up Vienna.

Mistake. Big mistake.

Where do I come into all this? you might be wondering. Well, it so happens that my brother Claudio had plighted his troth to his fiancée Juliet, and they were sleeping together. The
problem was that they had kept their marriage contract a secret in the hope that Juliet’s family would in time come to favour their union and provide a dowry, and this brought them within the
scope of the law against fornication.

Now, Angelo
could
have exercised mercy, realizing that this was a very minor infringement indeed, and that the two were, in all but the outward ceremony itself, legally married, but
Angelo is a cold fish and a sadistic, ruthless dictator. He likes to hurt people and make them squirm; it gives him pleasure. Believe me, I
know
.

Finding himself so suddenly and inexplicably condemned to death, Claudio asked me to intercede with Angelo on his behalf and see if I could secure a pardon. This I did, with disastrous results:
Angelo told me he was in love with
me
, and he would only let Claudio go if I slept with
him
.

Now, while I do realize that in many people’s eyes to give up one’s virginity for one’s brother’s life might not seem too much to ask, you must bear in mind that I was to
join the votarists of St Clare. I was to be married to God. This was my life, my destiny, and all of that – my very
soul
itself – would be sacrificed if I gave in to
Angelo’s base demands.

And don’t think I didn’t care about Claudio. Don’t think for a moment that the thought of complying didn’t cross my mind, but I wasn’t going to give in to that kind
of blackmail. I didn’t trust Angelo anyway. For all I knew, he might take my virginity
and
have Claudio executed as well – which, as it turned out, was exactly what he had in
mind.

The whole process was degrading, me pleading passionately for my brother’s life, going down on my knees on the cold stone to beg, Angelo making it clear that only by yielding up my body to
his will could I save Claudio. Humiliating.

When I told him my decision, Claudio wasn’t at all understanding. Of everyone, he should have been the one to see how important my virginity was, but no. He even had the effrontery to
suggest that I should reconsider and commit this vile sin to save his life. Claudio was afraid of death, and all he could talk about was his fear of dying when
I
was facing a much greater
enemy than death.

I told him he would find his comfort in the bosom of the Lord. He didn’t seem to agree.

Where was the wily duke during all this? You may well ask. As it turns out he was secretly directing events, disguised as a friar, and he was the one who came up with a cunning plan. He may be
of a tender and mild disposition, but he has a devious mind and he likes to play games. Nor does he always stop to think who might get hurt by them.

Angelo had once been betrothed to a woman called Mariana, but her dowry went down on the same ship as her brother Frederick, and Angelo left her in tears, pretending he had discovered some stain
on her honour when it was, in fact, the loss of the dowry that turned him against her. If you needed any more evidence of his worthlessness, that’s the kind of person he is.

Now, if I were to go back to Angelo and pretend to agree to his demands, the friar suggested, we could arrange things so that Mariana went to his chamber in my stead, breaking no laws and saving
both my virginity and Claudio’s life.

It seemed a very good plan, and it worked, though the friar did have to do a little juggling with severed heads later on to convince Angelo that Claudio had indeed been beheaded. Then, for
reasons of his own, the friar let me go on believing that Claudio had been executed – I did say he likes to play games, didn’t I? – until the final scenes had been played out.

He had Mariana beg for Angelo’s life, and the poor woman importuned
me
to beg with her! Thus, I found myself on my knees for a second time, this time pleading for the life of a man
I hated, the man who, I thought, had killed my brother even though, he thought, he had enjoyed the treasures of my body.

So is it any wonder I was speechless when in walked Claudio, as alive as you or I, and the duke announced that I was to be his duchess?

•

I could have said no, I suppose, but at the time I was too stunned to say anything, and the next thing I knew we were married.

Though it took me many months, I got over the shock of it all and adapted myself as best I could to my new life. I hadn’t actually taken my vows, so there was no legal problem with the
marriage. The duke took over Vienna again and enforced the law himself, tempered with mercy and charity, and things were back on an even keel. I’m not saying that fornication ceased. That
could never happen here. We Viennese are an odd lot, our lives full of secret vices and lies, and anyone with an interest in the human mind and perverse behaviour would have a field day studying
us.

Being the duke’s wife had many advantages, I soon found, though I did have some trouble adjusting to his husbandly demands. He wasn’t a young man, but he was certainly vigorous,
though he needed certain props to help him perform those functions he liked so much. In particular, he liked to dress as a friar and intone Latin vespers when he took me from behind, as was his
wont. That, I could deal with, but I drew the line when he asked
me
to dress as a nun. That would have been far too much of a travesty for me to take, given everything that had happened.

So time passed, and on the whole I quite enjoyed the life of idleness and luxury. I loved my horses, enjoyed the theatre and the frequent grand balls, and I came to rely on the kind attentions
of my maids and the delicious concoctions of my cooks. As I say, the sacrifices were bearable. Once in a while, I had a wistful thought for the life I might have led, but I must confess that when I
hosted a magnificent banquet or walked the grounds and gardens of our wonderful palace, the thought of a bare, cold, tiny cloister lost much of its appeal. Mind you, I still attended church
regularly and prayed every night, and we gave generously to the votarists of St Clare.

•

You might be interested in knowing what happened to the others. Claudio and Juliet were married, after which they moved to the country. By all accounts they are happy enough,
though we don’t see them very often. Angelo and Mariana were also married – it was
her
wish, the duke’s dictate, and in accord with the law – but their story
didn’t end happily at all. Well, how could it with an evil, sadistic pervert like Angelo for a husband? Mariana is very sweet, but she is
such
a naif when it comes to men. Even back
when I was headed for the convent I had more idea than she did.

So I wasn’t at all surprised when she came to me in tears about six months after her marriage.

‘Dry your eyes, dear,’ I said to her, ‘and let’s walk in the garden.’ It was a beautiful spring day, with a warm gentle breeze wafting the scents of flowers through
the mild air.

‘I can’t go on,’ she said.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘It’s Angelo.’

‘What about him?’

‘He doesn’t love me any more.’

He never did love her, I could have said, but I held my tongue. I doubted that was what she wanted to hear at the moment. ‘What makes you think that?’ I asked.

She looked around, then leaned in towards me and lowered her voice. ‘He has other women.’

I could have laughed out loud. Just about every husband in Vienna has other women. I suspect even my own duke has one from time to time, but if it spares me the friar’s costume and the
Latin vespers for a night, who am I to complain? But Mariana, I could see, was really upset. ‘It’s just men, Mariana,’ I told her. ‘They’re like that. They can’t
help themselves. It’s their nature. Every time they see an attractive woman they just have to conquer her.’

‘But am
I
not attractive?’

‘That’s neither here nor there. You’re his
wife
. That’s all that counts.’

‘Yes, I am his wife, so why does he have to sleep with other women? I’ll sleep with him any time he wants. I’ll do
anything
he wants me to, even if it hurts me, even
that disgusting thing with the—’

‘Mariana! I told you, it’s just their nature. You’ll have to learn to live with it or your life will be a very unhappy one.’

‘But I
am
unhappy already. I can’t live with it. I want to die.’

I took her arm. ‘Don’t be so histrionic, Mariana,’ I said. ‘You’ll get used to it.’

She broke away. ‘I won’t! Never! I want to die. I’m going to kill myself.’

I sighed. ‘Over a man? There must be better reasons. Look, who is this woman he’s been seeing?’

Mariana looked at me. Her eyes were so full of pain that my heart cried for her, even though I thought she was being foolish. ‘It’s not just
one
woman.’

‘How many?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Two, three?’

‘I told you. I don’t know.’

‘You must have some idea. Is it three, four, or five?’

‘About three. I think that’s about right.’

‘So he’s sleeping with three other women?’

‘Three a week. Yes.’

‘
What?
’

‘He has them sent to him. There’s a man called Pandarus, a Greek I think, a despicable human being, and Angelo pays him to procure young women. Usually young virgins from the
provinces who are new in town and haven’t settled into employment. They’re so young. They don’t . . . I mean they don’t all know what to expect.’

‘He forces them?’

Mariana nodded. ‘I’ve heard cries. Screams, sometimes, and he swears they will die terribly if they ever speak of what happened.’

Mariana’s story was starting to interest me. I had heard of this Pandarus, though I had never met him, and I knew that he affected a respectable enough surface and was able to move among
varying levels of society. Procuring wasn’t new to Vienna, even among the higher echelons – nothing to do with sex is new to Vienna – but this Pandarus intrigued me all the same.
‘How do you know all this?’ I asked.

‘A dear friend told me. She had a conversation with one . . . with one of the girls.’

‘And you’re certain it’s true?’

Mariana nodded. ‘One night I lay in wait, hiding in the bushes, and watched. We have always had separate quarters, and Angelo maintains the same chamber he used . . . do you remember, that
night when I went to him in your stead?’

I nodded. It wasn’t a memory I cared to dwell on. Not one of my finest moments.

‘They come in the darkest of night, and he burns no candles. Everything is just as it was that night.’

‘I see,’ I said. I had hated Angelo long and deeply enough for what he had inflicted on me that, even as we spoke, the beginnings of a plan began to form itself effortlessly in my
mind.

‘What can I do, dear Isabel? Pray, tell me, what can I do?’

I took her hand. ‘Do nothing,’ I said. ‘At least not for the moment. I know it pains you, but bear with it. I’m certain there’s a solution and I promise that your
suffering will come to an end ere long.’

Her eyes widened and lit up at that little sliver of hope. ‘Really? You promise? Oh, Isabel, is it possible I can be happy again?’

‘We’ll see,’ I said, busy thinking. ‘We’ll see.’

•

I was finally satisfied enough with my changed appearance and the peasant clothes I had painstakingly made to venture out into the city streets in the guise of a country girl
seeking employment. Through further, cautious questioning of Mariana, I had already determined that Pandarus tended to prey on his victims in the busy public square near the coach station, often
approaching them the very moment they arrived in the city. He had, I imagined, a skilled eye and knew exactly who was vulnerable to his approach and who best to leave alone. I affected to look lost
and weak, and on my second visit a man came up to me. His clothes and his bearing signified a certain level of wealth and influence in society, and his general manner was that of a gentleman.

‘Are you new here?’ he asked.

‘Me?’ I responded shyly, keeping my head down. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘Where are you from?’

I named a distant village I had once heard one of my husband’s ministers mention.

‘And what, may I ask, brings you to Vienna?’

‘I seek employment, sir.’

‘You do, do you? And what skills do you possess?’